Falling from Innocence
by Ashley K
Summary: formally CI: Hogwarts Style Hermione & Draco are stepsibs with a wager: corrupt innocent Harry. rr please!
1. Chapter One

Title: Cruel Intentions: Hogwarts Style (title will change)

Author: Ashley K

Disclaimer: No, I don't own anything. The Harry Potter Universe belongs to the wonderful, intelligent JK Rowlings. The concept behind this fic is based off of the movie Cruel Intentions and, therefore, belongs to its owners. Which is not me.

Spoilers: Just to be safe, consider everything, including OotP.

Summary: AU. What if Hermione was a pureblooded witch who's mother married Lucius Malfoy when she was 13? What if Hermione and Draco were 'the cruelest people in school'? What if Harry Potter was the innocent victim of a bet set between Hermione and Draco?

AN: This idea just came to me out of nowhere. As of right now, I have it listed as a Harry/Hermione fic, but, in all actuality, it is a Harry/Hermione/Draco triangle fic.

AN2: I'm not sure if I really like this fic…please r/r and tell me if I should complete it! Thanks! ^_^ 

Part One: 

Hermione Granger, the sweetheart of Hogwarts and recently named Head Girl, innocently walked into her stepfather's home. The moment her feet stepped into the door the innocent look faded and a cruel smirk crossed her features. Her eyes hardened at the sound of her stepbrother's voice in the closed sitting room. They further hardened at the sound of her stepbrother's guest's giggle of delight. 

Sighing softly to herself, she sing-songed, "Honey! I'm home!" She rolled her eyes at the next sound. 

Not bothering to knock on the door, Hermione pulled the heavy antique wood open. "Why, hello Parvati…or is it Padma? I can't tell; both of you frequent this room so very often." 

The pretty Patil twin flushed a deep scarlet. Hermione held back a laugh. The twit's whole body turned red. Turning to her milk-pale stepbrother, who had calmly redressed during her entrance, Hermione said, "Now, dear brother, what did Mother and Step-Father say about…that?" 

She motioned towards the still flustered, still unidentified Patil twin who was struggling with her clothing. Snorting with mock-disgust, Hermione pulled her Wizard camera out of her purse and quickly snapped a couple pictures of the still-naked girl. "Now, be a good girl and get the fuck out of my house, okay?" 

The mortified girl fumbled with the last button and brushed past Hermione. "Bye, love!" Hermione's stepbrother called after her. "Honestly, Mione! Couldn't you have waited ten more bloody minutes?!" 

Hermione sweetly smiled, the smile that had fooled every idiot that went to the stepsiblings' school and every teacher who taught there. Calmly, she walked over there, hips swinging enticingly as she crawled into her pale stepbrother's lap. "No, because…I was bored."

Draco Malfoy smiled and wrapped his arms around his delectable stepsister's tiny waist, inhaling her scent. Never was he happier then when his widowed father had met, and married, the lovely Corrine Black-Granger. Especially when he learned that the pureblooded witch, Corrine, came with a drop-dead gorgeous, equally pureblooded daughter. Sickeningly innocent and good, Hermione posed as a challenge for the thirteen year-old Draco. However, the end result was magnificent. 

At seventeen, Draco had molded the perfect wife for himself. Ruthless, cunning, cruel, and perfectly beautiful, Hermione Granger was, indeed a perfect match to Draco's malicious ways. While Draco's…indiscretions were publicly exposed, Hermione's were resourcefully blackmailed away. They were a force to be reckoned with. 

"Oh?" Draco drawled, nuzzling his stepsister's ear, smiling to himself at her soft, barely audible moan. "Well, we'll just have to remedy that." 

Her interest caught, Hermione quickly swiveled on Draco's lap, so that she was straddling him. Their eyes caught, both perfect mirrors of one another, neither showing any sign of true emotion…besides malice. "What are you planning?" she murmured, caressing the back of his head. 

"You see, I was quite upset when young Miss Weasley so cruelly dumped me for that…Squib Gryfindor, Longbottom," the name was spat out with an infinite amount of hatred. 

Amazingly, Hermione laughed, a tinkle of ice sounding within the room. Draco huffed his anger and abruptly picked the petite girl up and off his lap and started pacing the room. 

"I mean, who does she think she is? She's nothing! She wanted somebody 'more capable of love.' Of course she runs to little almost orphan Longbottom!" Draco raged. 

"What-the-fuck-ever," Hermione said, picking up the newest edition of Witch Weekly Magazine and apparently randomly flipping through the pages. 

"I want you to seduce the little boy. Ruin him forever. Make him lower than dirt. Lower than Flinch!" Draco finally got to the point. 

"No way," Hermione immediately said. "Virgins…so not my style! And plus, where's the challenge?" 

"C'mon Mione…I've seen the lad in the locker rooms…he's actually got a decent size willy. For a Gryfindor," Draco pleaded. "Would it be better if I told you to make him fall in love with you?" 

Pretending to be engrossed with her magazine, Hermione didn't answer her stepbrother. "What the bloody hell is so interesting in that damned magazine!?" Draco finally exploded, ripping the magazine out of Hermione's hands. 

Not even fazed, Hermione just turned in her chair so that she could get a good look at her brother as he read the article she had found hours before. She watched at his angry face slowly relaxed and his infamous smirk lit his face up. 

"Better than Christmas, isn't it?" Hermione whispered, innocently batting her eyes. "But whatever would he do if he was presented with lil' ole me?" 

"Whatever indeed…too bad he's goes to Beaubaxtons, you blind idiot," Draco taunted, "Although it would have been interesting…" 

"'Why I Plan To Wait' by Harry bloody Potter," Hermione said by rote, "The best and most important conquest of my life. Do you know what this will do for me?" 

"Is he for real? Mione, he must be a pouf," Draco snorted, as he continued reading the article on abstinence by the Boy-Who-Lived himself. Hermione watched as Draco read the part of the article that made her certain she would be successful. "You've got to be shitting me…transferring?" 

"Of course to Hogwarts," Hermione smugly said. "And, what with me being Head Girl and Justin being…indisposed, of course I volunteered to tutor the celebrity…get him prepared for the curriculum at Hogwarts. Oh, about that whole 'pouf' thing…read a little further down…about his insipid girlfriend Fleur." 

"Aww…isn't that sweet? She 'respects my decision.'" Draco rolled his eyes as he flung the magazine away in disgust. "What a fag." 

Hermione sweetly smiled. "Him and his godfather are coming over today for tea. Please clean up any…spots you may have left." 

"Mione, there is absolutely no way you'll be able to do this," Draco taunted. 

"Care for a little friendly wager on that?" Hermione arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow. 

Interest piqued, Draco nodded unconsciously. "What are the terms?" 

"I fuck Harry Potter, I win your summer home in Tuscany," Hermione immediately replied. She had put a lot of thought into this wager already. "I don't, you win the one thing you've wanted since our parents got married." 

"What's that?" Draco asked. His eyes were transfixed on his vixen stepsister as she slowly sauntered over to him. Smiling seductively, she leaned over; making sure Draco got a good view of her ample cleavage. 

"Me," she whispered breathily into his ear, nipping it as she pulled away. 

"No fucking way! There is no way **you** compare at ALL to **my** _Tuscany_ villa!" 

Hermione pouted. "I'll let you put it…anywhere," she said. She watched his expression. "Fine," she relented, playing her trump card; "I'll do Longbottom for you, too." 

"Longbottom's not part of the bet. You're going to do Longbottom for me because it evens it out," Draco countered. 

Rolling her eyes, Hermione nodded her head and stuck out her wand hand. "Agreed." The two stepsiblings shook on it. 

Smirking, Draco went to leave. He paused in the doorway. "Oh, by the way, the parents called. Your gold-digging whore of a mother is rapidly deflating my trust fund." 

"Oh? And how is your perverted leech of a father doing? Any more little boys?" 


	2. Chapter Two

Part Two: 

disclaimer in Part One. 

Sirius Black was immediately on his guard the moment the portkey dropped them on the outskirts of the Malfoy estate. While, yes, Lucius had publically renounced the Dark Lord, had even worked with the Order of the Phoenix to defeat Voldemorte, Sirius still did not trust the pale wizard. "You okay Harry?" He asked his just turned seventeen-year-old godson. 

"Sirius, I'm fine. I'm always fine," Harry answered, lips curling up in a small smile. Sirius's heart broke at the emptiness in Harry's eyes. 

The past six years had, quite literally, been Hell for the Boy-Who-Lived. The first three years of his school career at Beaubaxton was spent thwarting Voldemorte's many attempts at revival. His fourth saw the rebirth of Voldemorte, while the fifth gave rise to a disturbing prophecy about how Harry and Voldemorte would fight...to the death. The past year the fight to the death occurred, seeing the loss of Harry's best friend, Jon Mongeau. 

It was Harry who had quietly suggested a move. Sirius could not withhold such a small request to the young wizard. 

"Miss Fleur, don't you?" Sirius joked, ruffling the tall boy's already mussed hair. 

Inhaling sharply, Harry moved away from Sirius's hand. "We broke up," he flatly said. "She doesn't need a murdering fiend like myself in her life." 

Before Sirius could further question him, Harry moved to the heavy steel doorknocker and pounded it against the antique mahogany door, with a bit more force then necessary. His breath caught in his throat at the fragile looking girl who, impossibly it seemed, opened the heavy door. "Hello, you must be Harry and Mr. Black," she politely said, her voice practically screaming with good-breeding and class. 

"H-hi," Harry stuttered. The girl had meticulously perfect sable brown ringlets that fell to her waist with sparkling honey-brown eyes. "Are you Hermione?" he asked, incredulously. He had expected a mousy little bookworm. Not this near-perfect _goddess_ to be his tutor. 

Shaking his head at the young charge's reaction to the admittedly beautiful teenaged girl, Sirius reminded himself that this was, for all accounts, Lucius Malfoy's daughter. Which meant she was to be as trusted at her stepfather and stepbrother were. "Good afternoon, Miss Granger. I hope we're not too late?" 

Hermione fought the urge to allow her lower jaw to drop. All the pictures of Harry Potter had shown...well for lack of a better word, a weakling, too cowardly for even his _picture_ to stand tall. Real-life Harry Potter was much better looking. And definitely not a coward. 'This will be the most interesting summer. Ever,' she thought, allowing the corners of her lips to rise slightly. "Oh, of course not, Mr. Black! The house elves are just now setting everything out," she informed them, "Oh, wow, where are my manners? Come in, come in!" 

Opening the door a little wider to allow the two very tall, very muscular men inside the Malfoy manor, Hermione led them into the sitting room, smirking at the memory of Padma Patil's flushed face when Hermione discovered her in an...intimate position with Draco. "Won't you please sit down?" she asked, gracefully gesturing to the comfortable chairs. 

Neither man sat until Hermione did. She smiled inwardly at the gentlemanly ways. "Well, I have to say, Harry, I'm very impressed with your article in Witch Weekly." 

Harry flushed, an action that usually annoyed Hermione, but, for some reason, was strangely endearing on Harry. 

"**I** on the other hand, thought it was disgusting." Hermione's stomach dropped as Draco sauntered into the sitting room. "I mean, what self-respecting _wizard_ wouldn't want a decent shag every now and again? Bugger this 'waiting for marriage' bull shit!" 

Hermione sighed. "Mr. Black, Harry, please let me introduce you to my brother, Draco Malfoy. Draco, you remember Mr. Black? And this is Harry Potter." 

"A pleasure, as always, Mr. Black," Draco said, shaking the reluctant hand of Sirius. 

"Draco will be a seventh-year at Hogwarts too, Harry," Hermione informed him. "Luckily, he's in Slytherin. They normally keep to their dungeons. They're more comfortable there." 

Sirius and Harry watched, uncomfortable, as the two stepsiblings exchanged looks of malice. With a huff, Draco spun on his heel and left the room. Hermione closed her eyes and exhaled. "I'm so sorry about that. I didn't mean to make you so uncomfortable...Draco and I, well; we have a tenuous relationship, to say the very least. I'm sure you've heard about his terrible reputation." 

Briefly nodding, Sirius agreed with Hermione. "Don't worry, Miss Granger, we understand," he said, accepting her apology. 

"What house did you say that you were in?" Harry asked, curious. 

"Oh, me? I'm in Gryfindor," Hermione proudly said, although she was fighting the urge to roll her eyes. This was obviously going to be a lot easier than she had originally suspected. All men were the same; all they cared about was where they were going to get some from next. 

The next couple hours Hermione spent lying through her teeth about how "enjoyable" living in Gryfindor was and how "mentally stimulating" their academic schedules were. Although, the way that Harry had blushed at the word 'stimulating' was quite fun, for Hermione. 

She finally showed her two guests out of the door, with a promise to Harry to owl him for a tour of Diagon Alley and the first tutoring session. "Finally," she said, stripping off her very conservative robes, to show a very classy, but very scandalous Muggle outfit underneath. 

"So…? What are your odds?" Draco asked, slightly scaring her. 

"Damnit Draco!" Hermione swore, before allowing a sinister smile to cross her features. "Well, big brother, I think I will be the proud owner of a Tuscany villa before the end of this summer." 

Strolling past Draco, Hermione hummed a little tune to herself on her way up to her lavish suite of rooms and flopped onto her bed. With a little wave of her wand, her wireless turned on and music filled her room. "Accio quill," she said absently, grabbing the writing device. "Accio parchment." 

Nibbling on her lower lip, Hermione concentrated as she wrote a quick note to Harry Potter. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Sirius and Harry quietly opened the door to number 12 Grimmauld Place, not wanting to rouse the slightly-psychotic portrait of Sirius's mother. Once past the entryway, the two men both started to speak. 

"Well? What do you think of England?" Sirius asked, turning to his still naïve godson. 

Smiling, Harry remembered Hermione. "I think I'll like it here," he said, "I can't wait until school begins." 

Sirius watched Harry out of the corner of his eye. Hermione Granger was very beautiful and polite, but something just struck him as being _false_ in the girl. She had, after all, spent the past four years of her life as a Malfoy, a wizarding family known for its deviousness. 

From what he had learned from Headmaster Albus Dumbledore, Hermione was the model student, top of her class and very well liked. She had never stepped a foot out of line and was very intelligent; so much so that she was offered the opportunity to graduate a year early, an opportunity she decline in favor of a student-teacher position in advanced Charms. 

Her stepbrother, Draco Malfoy, however, was another story completely. Devious and snobbish, he represented the Malfoy stereotype perfectly. While all of his teachers agreed that the young man was very intelligent, the biggest complaint was that his intelligence was more often than not used for malicious purposes. 

An unfamiliar eagle owl interrupted Sirius's thoughts about the Malfoy-Granger family. "Oh wow!" Harry exclaimed, looking up from his newly delivered letter, "Its from Herm-I mean, Miss Granger, she's already invited me to meet her in front of the Leaky Cauldron at noon tomorrow to go to Diagon Alley." 

Harry smiled to himself. School hadn't even started yet, but already he was making friends. The fact that his new friend happened to be Head Girl and beautiful would help him take his mind off of things, mainly the past year. He smiled to himself. Yes, moving back to England was a good idea. Still smiling, Harry excused himself and left for his room. 

Sirius smiled, happy that his young charge was, for the moment, at peace. 

Yes, he still had his reservations about the Granger girl, but, for the time being at least, what was the harm in Harry becoming friends with the girl?


	3. Chapter Three

Title: Falling from Innocence

Author: Ashley K

Disclaimer: No, I don't own anything. The Harry Potter Universe belongs to the wonderful, intelligent JK Rowlings. The concept behind this fic is based off of the movie Cruel Intentions and, therefore, belongs to its owners. Which is not me.

Spoilers: Just to be safe, consider everything, including OotP.

Summary: AU. What if Hermione was a pureblooded witch who's mother married Lucius Malfoy when she was 13? What if Hermione and Draco were 'the cruelest people in school'? What if Harry Potter was the innocent victim of a bet set between Hermione and Draco?

AN: This idea just came to me out of nowhere. As of right now, I have it listed as a Harry/Hermione fic, but, in all actuality, it is a Harry/Hermione/Draco triangle fic.

AN2: sorry about the wait guys! my muse has finally returned to me...the next part SHOULD be up within the week.

Part Three:

At precisely noon, Hermione appeared in front of the Leaky Cauldron, not surprised at all to see Harry waiting. "Good afternoon, Harry," she greeted him sweetly. "I hope you didn't have any problems getting here? I forgot to ask if you wanted my driver to pick you up."

Before Harry had the chance to reply, a little girl, about eight or so, came up, in tears. "I'm lost," she cried out, tugging on Hermione's impeccable skirt. Hermione looked down at the little girl, who was covered in ice cream, and sneered, forgetting for a moment that she was with Harry and that she was supposed to be Miss Mary Sunshine.

"Get your grubby little hands off me," she hissed at the scared child, reflexively cringing from said hands. "Stupid Muggle brat," she spat out, before her honey-brown eyes widened as she remembered Harry's presence.

"Don't worry, sweetie," Harry said, ignoring Hermione's attempts at apology. He knelt down next to the girl. "We'll help you find your parents, won't we Hermione?"

Sniffling, the girl took Harry's hand. "I'm Anne. Who are you?" she shyly said, smiling up to the famous wizard. Hermione followed behind the two, trying to figure out a way to come out of the whole spectacle without losing face.

"I'm Harry," said the young man. He led Anne around the corner, when a frazzled looking woman came flying into him.

"MOMMY!" Anne screamed with happiness and relief. Harry and Hermione watched as the mother and her child were reunited. Much to Harry's shock and Hermione's joy, the mother shot Harry an evil look before grabbing her child's hand and storming off.

"I should report you for kidnapping!" the Muggle woman said as she huffed out. 

Stunned, both the teenagers were speechless. Hermione recovered first. "Well, lets get going," she suggested, having long since decided that the best way of dealing with her…outburst would to pretend it had never happened to begin with. 

"Good idea," Harry absently agreed, following Hermione inside the Leaky Cauldron. 

~*~*~*~*~*~ 

The two teenagers' day had been full of laughter and spending. Hermione had shown Harry all of Diagon Alley's great sites to see. After they had purchased all their wizard items, Hermione suggested a trip into Muggle London. 

Walking out of the fitting room, Hermione modeled an outfit to Harry. "What do you think? Muggle clothing is…so much more…I don't know, comfortable? Than wizard clothing." 

"Who are you?" Harry quietly asked that question that had been plaguing his mind all afternoon. 

Confused, Hermione arched an eyebrow up. "Excuse me?" 

"Right now you're acting all sweet and innocent, but don't think I don't remember how you acted towards that little girl," Harry said, not meeting Hermione's eyes. "Are you really 'a malicious and evil seductress'? Or are you what you appear to be?" 

"'Seductress'?" Hermione parroted, laughing slightly. "Who's been feeding you lies about me?" 

"Are they lies, Hermione?" Harry asked again. "You still haven't answered my question." 

Scowling, Hermione was at a loss for words and sharply turned on her heel. "I'm going to change," she said, still ignoring the question. 

When she emerged from the fitting room, Harry was gone, leaving behind a message with the insipid Muggle salesgirl. Barely containing her anger, Hermione stalked out of the shop and into Diagon Alley, where she immediately headed for Knockturn Alley. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Neville Longbottom carefully let loose the cricket into his pet frog's, Trevor's, cage, before sitting back and watching his beloved pet capture the insects within moments of their release. He smiled to himself; his frog had been a present from his uncle. 

No, not just a present, Neville corrected himself. It was a sign of his uncle's approval. Approval was something Neville never really received growing up. Technically it was something he never really ever received. Until Ginny Weasley decided that she would, in fact, be his girlfriend. That was one of the proudest days of his life. Even though the Weasley family wasn't rich, by any means, they did have powerful, _pureblooded_ witches and wizards. The fact that little, almost-squib-like Neville was able to catch, and keep, the attention of such a witch, made his family almost appreciate him. 

"Neville!" 

Neville jumped at the sound of his grandmother's voice. For the billionth time, Neville silently wished that his parents weren't in St. Mungo's and that they were able to have raised him. He sighed and hurried down the stairs to see what his grandmother wanted. 

Upon clearing the stairs, Neville almost fainted. Standing in his foyer, talking to the crotchety Mrs. Ophelia Longbottom, was Draco Malfoy, his childhood tormentor and classmate. "D-d-draco," Neville managed to stutter out. 

Draco fought the urge to hex both of the Longbottoms. Neville's power-hungry grandmother was transparent in her tactless requests for an invitation to a Malfoy event, while Neville was just about ready to piss his pants. Smirking at the final thought, Draco calmly, almost warmly, replied to Neville's stuttered greeting. "Hello, Neville. I was just wondering if you would like to come with me to see the Tornadoes play the Cannons?" 

"Me?" Neville asked dumbly, ignoring his grandmother's vigorous nodding. 

Once again fighting off the urge to roll his eyes, Draco managed a slight laugh. "Of course you, Neville," Draco answered with good humor. "Don't you think its time to put our childish animosity behind us?" 

Draco watched as a wide range of emotions flicked across the Gryffindor's face. He smiled reassuringly to Neville, thinking the whole time how incredibly _lucky_ he was. Ginny had insisted upon a secret relationship, something that would benefit him now. Neville had no idea. 

"Yes…" Neville answered, a bit uncertain, with his grandmother in the background, beaming brightly. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Hermione tried not to inhale too deeply. The air surrounding Knockturn Alley was a bit wrong. She had asked Draco, the first time she visited the Alley, about why. He had laughed at her, something that she hated, and had matter-of-factly told her it was because of all the Dark Magic polluting the air. 

Unfortunately, Hermione's favorite Wizard shop was located there, well-hidden from anyone with good intentions. Standing in front of an overflowing rubbish bin, all of her concentration was set on something _within_ the bin. Suddenly the rubbish bin disappeared and an elegant-looking shop was in its place. 

Weasely's Wizarding Wonders. 

Hermione smiled and pushed the door open. 


	4. Chapter Four

Title: Falling from Innocence  
Author: Ashley K  
Disclaimer: No, I don't own anything. The Harry Potter Universe belongs to the wonderful, intelligent JK Rowlings. The concept behind this fic is based off of the movie Cruel Intentions and, therefore, belongs to its owners. Which is not me.  
Spoilers: Just to be safe, consider everything, including OotP.  
Summary: AU. What if Hermione was a pureblooded witch who's mother married Lucius Malfoy when she was 13? What if Hermione and Draco were 'the cruelest people in school'? What if Harry Potter was the innocent victim of a bet set between Hermione and Draco?  
AN: sorry for the wait! But, I figure there's going to be about 14 or 15 chapters overall. as always...review please!

thank you to everybody who's reviewed so far! ^_^

Part Four: 

"Mione!" 

Hermione winced at the slaughter of her name, but quickly hid her disapproval. The man-boy in front of her was very, **very** important to her life. "Ron," she warmly said, accepting the hug he pulled her into. 

"How's my favorite girl doing this fine day?" Ron Weasley, brother to the infamous Ginny Weasley, asked. 

"I could be doing a lot better," Hermione replied, handing over a pouch of Galleons. Ron slightly frowned, before heading to the secret backroom, with Hermione closely following. "I need a lot this time, Ron. I'm not sure when I'll be in London again; Draco and I are going to be spending some time in the country." 

Waving off her excuses, Ron pulled out a flask of potion, handing it to Hermione. "Do NOT drink all of this at once, Mione. I'll not have the Malfoys flying down my throat because of your daftness." 

Smiling down at the potion, Hermione laughed at Ron. "As if I'd be _that_ wasteful!" 

Pulling the flask open, Hermione carefully poured a tiny amount of the clear liquid into the modified base of her wand, before allowing herself the tiniest sip, straight from the flask. She immediately felt better. Humming softly to herself, she reduced the flask and hid it in her bra, laughing to herself at Ron's suddenly wide eyes. 

"What's in this again?" 

"Modified draught of sleep, peace, with some Wit-Sharpening Potion and Pepperupper thrown in for luck," Ron automatically answered. "Something illegal when mixed…but hey! We all know the best things in life are the worse things for you." 

Snorting, Hermione nodded her agreement. "Take Draco, for instance. Do you know what we're doing this summer? No, how could you?" she asked herself, before shaking her head. "Anyway, we've got a little bet going on. Unfortunately it would appear some colossal prick decided to ruin my chances." 

"Rewind and explain," Ron said patiently. He knew how Hermione's mind would go off on seemingly random tangents when she was on his drug. It made for amusing conversations. Not only that, but the potion gave Hermione an overall euphoric feeling, while allowing her already sharp mind to plot even faster. Unfortunately, the side effect was a bit of seemingly nonsensical rambling. 

"Harry Potter," Hermione simply said, pondering on the best course of action for the Boy-Who-Lived. 

Frowning slight, Ron stared harder at the current Head Girl. "A little vague, but…knowing you and your asshole stepbrother, I'm going to guess it has something to do with his transfer to Hogwarts and his little manifesto." 

Nodding, Hermione agreed. "It has every thing to do with his manifesto. And some **fucker** decided to warn our little hero about my ways. Now, who knows about my…extracurricular activities?" 

"Not many," Ron said. "I doubt anybody in Gryfindor would…he's from Beaubaxtons…that's in France, right?" 

"Oui," Hermione answered, her French perfect. 

"Cho Chang," Ron said, after a brief moment for thought. "Didn't you…well, you know?" 

Hermione smiled at the memory of what she did, exactly, to Miss Chang. "You mean get her drunk and admit to her 'best' friend that she was in love with her. Oh, and don't forget the best part…recording it all and showing the entire school? Well, in that case, yes." 

"Our little girl is from France, isn't she?" 

"Damnit, that would be the perfect revenge for the little bitch," Hermione fumed. "Too bad she's still in France, otherwise, she would be in a massive amount of pain." 

Smirking, Ron gave Hermione an 'I know something you don't' look. "To my surprise, and pleasure, Miss Chang came crawling to me at the end of the term. Asked to be my girlfriend as a resort to save both of our reputations." 

Ron Weasley was a closet homosexual. Hermione and Draco were about the only two people in Hogwarts who knew the truth, however, there was a lot of speculation about his sexuality. His family informed him that, in no way, could they accept their youngest son as a homosexual. 

"And…?" 

"I accepted, of course. It got my dear family off my case. However, I was bit upset when Cho decided to keep her Sapphic ways alive. Hell, the only reason why I put up with her bull shit is because she's got a mouth like a vacuum," Ron ruefully said. "But, anyway, she's back, for early NEWT tutoring. And, she's already called me. Asked me if it would be okay for her to come to my flat with a _friend_." 

Smirking, Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Tonight? Say…midnight?" 

Ron nodded, and then shook Hermione's hand. "As always, doing business with you is a pleasure." 

* * *

Draco had listened to a reassured Neville Longbottom's ramblings throughout the game, without any really interesting topics discussed. Inwardly sighing as Neville started taking about Herbology, Draco quickly interrupted him. "I hear that you and Miss Weasley have been friendly with one another lately," Draco queered. 

Blushing a deep red, Neville nodded. "Ginny and I…well…we started dating at the end of the term." 

Detecting a hint of uncertainty, Draco smiled, and asked for more. "But…?" 

Biting his lip, Neville debated telling his secret thoughts on his new relationship to the Slytherin prince. Draco smiled reassuringly at him and Neville decided to trust him. "I'm not sure if I really _like_ her," he stammered out. 

Concern immediately crossed Draco's features. "Why not?" 

"Well, first of all she keeps talking about some psychotic player she dated over last term," Neville answered, pausing briefly, a look of confusing momentarily crossing his plain features. "I didn't even know she was seeing anybody." 

"Psychotic?" Draco parroted, mostly to himself, torn between being proud of his player status and angry over the psychotic part. 

"Yeah, that was pretty much my reaction," Neville said. "And, secondly…" he trailed off, reconsidering whom he was, in fact, confiding in. 

"C'mon Nev," Draco pleaded, shamelessly looking for more information. "What is it?" 

"Susan Bones," Neville answered. 

Draco's devious mind had already put two and two together, but he wanted Longbottom to say it. "The Hufflepuff? She's not all that bad, for a Hufflepuff." 

"She's been sending me owls," Neville whispered. "Love-letters." 

"Have you answered any of them?" Draco questioned. This may just be easier than he originally suspected it would be. 

"No!" Neville exclaimed. "I'm with Ginny! That wouldn't be right…plus Gram would be so disappointed!" 

"Neville, be a man," Draco laughed inwardly at his statement. "Love only comes once in a while. I know! I'll help you! If there's one thing I'm good at, its love letters." 


	5. Chapter Five

Disclaimer and such in part one.  
AN: sorry about the wait, folks! without further ado...here's...

Part Five: 

Biting her lip nervously, Hermione threw a handful of Floo-Powder into her bedroom fireplace. "Number 12 Grimmauld Place," she clearly announced as the flames turned a dull green. Taking a deep breath to calm her nerves, Hermione stuck her head into the now-green fire. "Harry? Mr. Black?" 

Hermione hated talking through fires. She would have much rather spoke to him in person, or by owl post, however, circumstances being what they were, she knew that this was the best route to go. 

After leaving Knockturn Alley, Hermione's potion-induced thoughts came up with a perfect solution to her problem. She would tell him the truth, or rather, as much as the truth as she would allow herself to. Hopefully the Boy Wonder would be as noble and forgiving as his stereotype set him out to be. From what Hermione had seen that afternoon, he was. 

"Oh, hello, Miss Granger," Sirius cordially greeted the young Gryffindor. "Harry's upstairs; I'll send you to him." 

Bracing herself for the dizzying fire-transfer, Hermione closed her eyes and counted to ten. When she opened her eyes she was no longer looking in the kitchen of Grimmauld Place, but rather Harry's bedroom. Taking a few moments to see her prey's surroundings, Hermione smiled at the Quidditch posters on the walls, the un-made bed, the unfolded clothes, and the empty owl cage. Typical boy's room. 

"Harry?" she timidly called out, "Harry?" 

Harry walked into his bedroom, presumably from the attached bathroom, and Hermione's breath caught in her throat. She had seen her share of naked men's chests before, but nothing prepared her for this. On seeing Hermione's green-tinted head, Harry blushed at grabbed for a shirt. Hermione almost pouted in disappointed, but stopped herself at the last moment. 

"Hermione? What are you…I mean…" Harry stammered, still flustered at his original unclothed state. 

Never one to really sit around and do nothing; she was, after all, a 'jump first, ask questions later' Gryffindor, Hermione hesitantly smiled at Harry. "This afternoon, before you…left," Hermione started, "you asked me if I really was who I seemed to be or if I was who you heard I was. I've come to answer your questions. 

"I'm not 'an evil seductress,' those were your words, right?" Not waiting for his answer, Hermione continued, "But I'm not the innocent little Head Girl that most everybody in Hogwarts believes me to be. I've done things that I'm not proud of and…I wish I could take them back, but I can't. You have to understand, Harry, my family isn't exactly the model Wizarding family. 

"Not that they're not good," Hermione hurriedly added, "They are. It's just that they…have very high expectations of me, because of who I am and whom I was born to. I had to do everything in my power to become Head Girl and I hate that. I'm sorry that you feel that I've misled you; I swear I haven't. Why would I? You're everything I'm looking for in a man; sweet, noble, brave, handsome, and you're so committed to your goals. That's very admirable, Harry." 

Hermione finished with a compliment and a smile. It was the smile that got her everything she had ever wanted, full of innocence and humility. Her smile slowly faded as Harry continued blankly staring at her. 

"I'm not looking for a girlfriend," Harry finally said. 

Her smile appearing once more, Hermione answered, "I'm not looking for a boyfriend. I could use a friend." 

"I could use one, too," Harry ruefully replied, a grin crossing his features. Hermione relaxed. She was back in the game. "Come over tomorrow afternoon. I have something I'd like to share with you." 

"Are you sure?" 

Nodding, Harry's grin grew to a full-on smile. "Tomorrow at noon." 

"Until then," Hermione said and pulled her head out of the fireplace. 

"'You're everything I look for in a man?' What type of rubbish is that?" 

Whirling around Hermione smirked at Draco's smug features. "Hello, dear brother, how was your day?" 

Casually helping himself to Hermione's bed, Draco laid down, his hands behind his head. "Longbottoms are such pains." 

Snickering to herself, Hermione crawled onto the bed and settled herself half on top of Draco. "As are dim-witted half-bloods. Honestly, can you believe that he actually bought all that rubbish?" 

Impishly, Draco raised his hand. "I could," he said, grinning boyishly. Frowning half-heartedly, Hermione grabbed her stepbrother's raised hand and twisted slightly. Responding just as quickly, the much stronger Draco pulled Hermione completely against him. Her frown quickly fading into a seductive grin, Hermione traced Draco's lips with her tongue before nipping at his lower lip and pulling away. 

"You're not going to win," Draco murmured. "How do you feel about an August wedding?" 

"Humidity," Hermione simply retorted. Draco smirked, pulling on one of her carefully coifed curls. "And, dear brother, I _will_ win." 

Somewhere within the Manor a clock struck midnight. Stretching luxuriously, Hermione slid off of Draco and onto the floor. Casually, she picked up her brand new camera and snapped a picture off. "I've got a date," Hermione said, pulling on a pair of shoes. "Get the fuck out of my room." 

Scowling, Draco stormed off. "Bloody bitch!" 

"Love you, too!" Hermione called to him. Turning towards the fireplace, she carefully annunciated, "Number Seven, Blaine Court." 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

Ron drummed his fingers impatiently, trying to ignore the breathy sounds coming out of his guest room. "Took you long enough," he called over his shoulder as Hermione appeared from his fireplace. 

"Had some loose ends to deal with," Hermione airily answered, waving off Ron's concern with a smooth motion. "Are they…?" 

"For at least the past hour," Ron answered. 

Casually, Hermione pulled a small camera out of her purse. "Showtime," she smirked, before opening the door. Snapping a couple candid pictures of Cho and her friend…reintroducing themselves to each other, Hermione smiled sweetly as the two girls scrambled for cover. "Well, well, well…what's this?" 

Slightly recovered, Cho briefly met Hermione's mocking grin before turning her head. "Listen, Hermione…this—" 

"..isn't what it looks like. I'm really drunk. It's a one-time thing. Blah, blah, blah," Hermione said, bored. "Well, who are you?" 

Cho's friend blushed, still only halfway clothed. "Marietta," the girl whispered, "Edgecombe." 

"Ah, your mother works for the Ministry, doesn't she, Marietta?" Hermione asked, her voice deceptively soft. 

"Don't," Cho pleaded, knowing where the Gryffindor girl was headed. "Just…don't." 

Furious that Cho would have the gall to tell _her_ what to do, Hermione turned her full attention to the Asian girl. "And, why should I do that, Mister…I mean _Miss_ Chang? Afterall…it is **you** who ratted me out to Harry Potter." 

"Harry Potter?!" Cho shrieked. "This is about Harry bloody Potter?!" 

Not saying a word, Hermione continued to glare at the older Ravenclaw. Realizing that Cho wasn't going to say anything more, Hermione sighed. "The truth will save you, Miss Edgecombe, and her mother's job." 

Both of the nearly naked girls started crying. "I-I don't…I didn't…" Cho stuttered out. 

Ron, finally entering the room, smirked at his 'girlfriend.' "You know, Mione, know that I think about it…Cho probably is telling the truth. She's in Ravenclaw, true, but I'm pretty sure that she wouldn't do something like that. She just doesn't have…well, pardon the pun, the stones to do it." 

Sparing a moment, Hermione shot Ron a withering stare before turning to attention back to Cho and Marietta. Staring in Cho's watery, desperate eyes. "I believe you," Hermione said. 

"Can I have the film?" Cho asked, meekly. Her previous run-in with Hermione had taught her an important lesson. Never, ever give Hermione _any_ form of material for future blackmail. 

"Eventually," Hermione agreed. "I need you to do something for me first." 


	6. Chapter Six

Disclaimer and such in part one!

Thank you soo much for all the wonderful reviews! Part seven is almost completed and will be up within the week!

Part Six:

Neville anxiously stared at the intricately carved front door of the Malfoy Manor, biting his lip. Draco had promised him secrecy; there was no way in hell Neville was going to lose his family's respect. Neville first wanted to make sure that Draco was not just planning some devious plot against him. "No," he softly said to himself, "Draco's not…we're friends."

With that in mind, Neville sharply inhaled and grabbed the heavy doorknocker.

Smiling to herself, Hermione opened the door, faking surprise at the visitor on the other side. "Neville!" she cordially greeted her fellow Gryffindor. "Come in," she said, opening the door wider.

"D-draco, told me to come over," Neville stammered, uneasy around the popular Hermione. "I-I-is he home?"

Mentally rolling her eyes, Hermione smiled brightly. "No, Draco stepped out briefly," she lied, fully knowing that her devious stepbrother was quietly 'entertaining' one, or both, of the Patil sisters, "But he should be back in a while. Why don't you come in? I'll have one of the elves make us something to snack on."

"Thank you," Neville said, smiling nervously. He had heard enough rumors, rumors that had been stopped before they left the Tower, to set him on edge around the Gryffindor Golden Girl to put him on alert.

"How are things?" Hermione asked, after making sure that the Malfoy elves were hard at work getting tea prepared. "I understand you are quite skilled in Herbology…"

Draco listened to his lovely stepsister hard at work. Smirking to himself, Draco mentally made a tally of things left to do. "Ah," he lamented, "So many things left to do…so little time."

"Harry, how are you?" Cho asked, not meeting the penetrating look that Harry was giving her. She softly sighed. Cho felt bad; deceiving the Boy Who Lived was partially a sacrilege in the Light Wizarding World. Unfortunately, Hermione Granger-Malfoy left her with no choice. She would rather die than see Marietta harmed, in any way. And Cho knew that Hermione was devious enough to do so.

"All considering?" Harry asked, smiling his half smile that melted the Wizarding World, "Pretty good. Have you spoke to Fleur lately?"

Almost frowning, Cho brightly smiled. Fleur was her mother's best friend's daughter. They had grown up with one another and Cho remembered how excited Fleur had been when she had caught the attention of Harry Potter. "No," she lied, looking off into the distance. There was an awkward silence for a moment, before Cho gathered the courage to do as Hermione requested. "I've heard that Miss Granger is catching you up?"

Frowning, Harry was silent for a long moment. "Yes," he flatly said. "She is. Is it just me or is there something…not right about her?"

'YES!' Cho mentally screamed. Instead she put on the carefully practiced innocent face on. "What do you mean?"

"I received an owl, shortly after I met her…Telling me how evil and devious she really was. How she enjoys a good conquest and how I would make the perfect target…Is all of this true?"

Closing her eyes, briefly, Cho gathered her wits about her. "No, not at all. Hermione gets a bad rep, you know? She's so brilliant and…well…pure, is the best word, I guess, that a lot of people gossip about her, tell a bunch of lies, you know how it is," Cho said.

Remembering the whole Rita Skeeter issue back in his fourth year, Harry smiled. "Yes, I do," he dryly said. "Are you sure?"

"Hermione gets a bad rep. But she always gives a 110%. She's a great friend," Cho almost chocked on that lie, "I know that I can always count on her to do what she thinks is best." 'There,' she thought, 'Not a complete lie.'

"I don't know…I've heard some pretty bad things," Harry said, reading into Cho's uneasiness.

"From whom?" Cho asked, a perfect look of disbelief sketched onto her features.

"I was sworn to secrecy," Harry said, grinning down at his exgirlfriend's long-time friend.

"Oh, come on! It's me! Cho! The only Seeker who can kick your lanky butt!"

"Okay, okay!" Harry said, putting his hands up in surrender. "Just promise me you won't tell anyone."

Hermione sighed. Seducing the virginal Neville was easy; too easy. Shuddering at the slight stench the boy left behind, she moved towards the shower. "Hermione?" came Cho's lilting voice.

"Yes?" she asked, smiling with victory.

"Mrs. Longbottom," came the terse answer.

"Are you sure?" Hermione asked, grabbing the roll of, still undeveloped film.

"Positive."

"And you did what I told you too?"

"Yes."

"He bought it?"

"Completely."

Hermione smiled before carelessly tossing the film to Cho's green head. Victory was within reach. 


	7. Chapter Seven

Disclaimer and such in part one.

Okay, okay, I know I promised an update LAST week. I suck.

Thank you all soooo much for the reviews...I love them!  
Just to clear up some confusion...and in case you haven't quite gotten it the characters yet.=  
Harry Potter = Annette Hardgrove  
Hermione Granger = Sebastian Valmont  
Draco Malfoy = Kathryn Mertuil  
Neville Longbottom = Cecile Cauldwell  
Ginny Weasley = Court Reynolds  
Cho Chang = Greg...something  
Ron Weasley = Blaine...something  
Susan Bones = Ronald...something

Part Seven:

Harry raced around his room in an attempt to find something clean. His…not-date with Hermione was in five minutes and he still could not find a clean, decent looking shirt anywhere. After his, somewhat reassuring, conversation with Cho, Harry was determined to make up for his bad attitude. Cho had no reason to lie to him. Obviously Mrs. Longbottom was just lying to him. Harry sighed; he was tired of these 'friends' that kept popping out from nowhere.

"Harry? Hermione's here!" Sirius called up.

"Shit!" Harry cursed.

"Nice language," Hermione dryly said, ignoring how her stomach flipped at the sight of a, once again, shirtless Harry.

"You're early," Harry said, with more confidence than he felt.

"Not by every clock in England…save yours, that is," Hermione said, smiling. "I thought that the girl was supposed to be the one keeping the guy waiting?"

Sheepishly smiling, Harry finally found a suitable shirt. "I like to surprise people."

"I like surprises," Hermione softly said, following the Boy Who Lived out of the room.

'Susan,

I know that I've been a complete prat towards you in school, but I have something you will, most definitely want to receive. It's from Neville.

-DM'

Draco smiled at his vague letter. "If this doesn't get her attention, nothing will," he confidently told Neville. "Now, for your letter. It wouldn't do to not have anything to give to the poor girl."

Mutely nodding, Neville picked up his quill and began to write, each word a heartfelt expression of his feelings. Draco watched him write, slightly bored. "Well, when she gets my owl, and, hopefully, comes over…I think you should be here."

Startled, Neville looked up, "What?"

"Jesus, Neville! Are you going to always be hiding behind somebody? Grow some stones! You like the chit, right?"

"Yes," Neville softly answered. "But…last night…"

Controlling his features, Draco braced himself for what was coming. "Last night what?" he asked, boredom etched into his mannerisms.

"Well…we were supposed to meet up…but you weren't here. Hermione…well…"

"Spit it out already!" Draco implored, dying with laughter inwardly.

"She kissed me," Neville blurted out, blushing a deep red. He leaned closer to Draco, lowering his voice to a barely audible whisper. "On my…you know."

Biting back a smile, Draco put on a face of practiced innocence. "No, where?"

Draco watched, amused, as Neville's blush spread to encase his whole entire head. If Hermione hadn't of already told him about her experience with Neville the previous night, Draco quite probably would have been a bit confused. "You know, _there_," Neville said, emphasizing the word with a gesture to his groin.

"Oh," Draco said, before frowning. "Well, I think that you should go farther with her."

"What?!"

"Well, you don't want to disappoint Susan, do you? Or, even worse, get _laughed_ at. Hermione could teach you things and, you know, give you some experience," Draco calmly explained. Based on Neville's wide-eyed, open-mouthed stare, the Gryffindor had never thought about that.

"But isn't that…wrong?" Neville asked, confused again.

Rolling his eyes, Draco sighed. "Nev, it's only _wrong_ if you get caught. Everybody does it. Its just that nobody _talks_ about it."

"Oh, like a secret club?" Neville asked, trying to comprehend this new idea. Draco smiled and nodded, reassuring Neville.

"Exactly," Draco agreed. "Now, about that letter…"

"Where are we going, Harry?" Hermione asked, feet and legs tired after an hour of seemingly pointless walking. She fought the desire to pout. Hermione absolutely hated walking. It was so…Muggle-like.

"Why? Is the infamous Miss Granger-Malfoy tired?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow, grinning madly.

Shooting him a half-angry, half-teasing glare, Hermione pursed her mouth. "No," she sullenly answered. The two made eye contact and Harry moved closer to Hermione.

"You sure? We're almost there," Harry said. Hermione nodded as Harry grabbed her hand. It was a nice contact. Hermione marveled at the calloused strength of Harry's hand, before mentally slapping herself. She was beginning to sound dangerously like one of those insipid Potter fan-girls rather than a Granger-Malfoy. "Close your eyes," Harry whispered, once the pair was on top of the, in Hermione's eyes, rather steep hill that they had been hiking up for the past ten minutes.

Making eye contact with the Boy-Who-Lived, Hermione inhaled deeply before closing her eyes. She sensed Harry's free hand wave in front of her closed eyes, before he let go of her hand and gathered her up in his arms. "Hang on," he whispered into her ears; before she felt the unmistakable sensation of being both weightless and of gravity that one only felt midair, on a broom.

Hermione hated flying. Wincing, slightly, as she realized that they were flying, Hermione cowered into Harry's shirt and, absolutely _refused_ to open her eyes. "You do realize that I will be killing you, right?" Hermione asked; her voice pinched with fear.

"Hermione," Harry said, hearing the fear in her voice and feeling the tension in her body, "I'm sorry. I didn't know that you were afraid to fly."

"I am not afraid to fly!" Hermione protested, despite her body's visible reaction against flying. "I just don't like it."

Chuckling softly, Harry tightened his grip on the Head Girl, before slowly descending. "Open your eyes," Harry requested, hovering above their destination.

"No," Hermione petulantly answered.

"Please?" Harry asked again.

Growling low in her throat, Hermione slowly opened one eye and then the other. And immediately gasped with shock.

Harry had led them to the most wildly beautiful place that Hermione had ever seen. "This is Godric's Hollow," Harry quietly said, before pointing to a smallish cabin situated on the edge of a small lake. "That's where Voldemorte killed my parent."

Quiet, Hermione listened to Harry as he slowly took them down to the quaint cabin where it had simultaneously ended and began. They both got off of the broom, which Harry left laying in the grass, and walked towards the cabin. "My father's body was found here," Harry simply said, pointing to a place just inside the door. "He was trying to hold off Voldemorte…give my mother and I time to escape. He knew he was going to be murdered."

Hermione fought the urge to shudder as they walked through the cabin that still held mementos of the Potter family. She wanted to smile at the family pictures that littered every surface of the cabin, but didn't. She took in the half-finished, sixteen year-old crossword puzzle sitting by the couch. It was never going to be finished. Hermione blinked back tears.

"Come," Harry said, grabbing her hand again. She couldn't help but notice that it was slightly shaking. Hermione followed as Harry led her up the stairs.

The pair walked into a quickly, but cheerfully decorated nursery. Hermione bit her lip. She had read enough about the history of Harry Potter to know what happened in this room.

"This was your room," she stated, squeezing Harry's hand, uncaring of the fact that there was emotion in her voice. Uncaring of the fact that her entire heart, body, mind, and soul was going out to this man-boy who had saved the entire Wizarding world more times than somebody his age should have. Hermione tried to write it off as pity, sympathy for a War Hero, but looking at him, at his expression of loneliness…

Hermione closed her eyes as the realization that she was falling in love hit her. 'I need to get out of here. I need to call off this stupid bet,' Hermione thought, staring at Harry's lost expression in his eyes.

"My mother fell where you're standing. And Voldemorte moved on to me," Harry whispered. Hermione took the necessary three steps to Harry.

And kissed him.

It was not one of the kisses Hermione was used to receiving and giving. It was small, more of a comfort thing rather than one meant to arouse. She kept her eyes open, trained on Harry's green ones. As suddenly as the kiss was started, she ended it, pulling away from Harry slightly.

Hermione went to apologize, when Harry reached out and grabbed her with more passion than she ever would have expected from him. He pulled her close to him and attacked her mouth, her clothes, her body.

Hermione did the same to him.

And, in the middle of the room where he lost everything, Hermione gave herself, completely, to Harry Potter. 


End file.
